Reblog If U Want Anonymous Dms And Asks ;)

Reblog if u want anonymous dms and asks ;)

Save my baby before too late

My little girl is suffering from a lack of nutrition and dehydration😭😭, please help me save my baby before it's too late

My Compaign link

https://www.gofundme.com/f/save-ibrahim-family

Please Reblog my pin post and Donate

Thanks

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Opening this again, but you can request really anything now though

send inspo anons and I'll write little feeder/feedee/wg/inflation/eggpreg blurbs for them <3

hearing 'good boy, good boy, good boy, good boy' chanted breathlessly over and over while they're ruthlessly pounding you into the mattress. thats it thats the post

write about someone being blackmailed to gain weight and hating watching it happen to themselves? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

That stupid letter.

"68kg by the end of the month. Or else I air your dirty laundry."

Dread had been clear on your face as you reread it half a dozen times. Truth be told, you were convinced you could work off the pounds the minute the black mail ended, whenever that would be.

You'd bulked up your shopping list to includes chips, cookies, brownies, cakes, milkshakes, processed and sugary foods practically dripping with calories. After nearly 10 minutes of staring, you'd finally begun working your way through the calories.

Now here you were, 3/4s of the way through the month and your pants had begun to ache on your waist. Each chew brought your newly made double chin bobbing on your collarbone and a disgusted grimace on your face. Your shirt has ridden up a good deal now, showing your potbelly that had swollen to rest on your legs. Friends had shot you dirty glances and judgemental stares and you were well aware why.

Before, you'd have been being praised for your slim figure, but here you were, laying on your couch with a stomach that felt like a stone weighing you down in place. The box of donuts rested on the crest of your swollen gut and the cream filling had dribbled down your chins, but you knew you still had a dozen or so pounds to go. With a strained groan, you got up to grab your phone and order a pizza. Nothing fit any more, and a pair of sweatpants had gone from "barely used" to "hanging on by a thread" as your body bloated from all the unused calories.

Your belly swung as you stumbled forward, grabbing a table for support as you moved with sluggish steps to your phone. The minute this was over, you'd be right back at the gym, working off every pound, fighting to get yourself back to that slim figure you knew so well. Then you wouldn't look a bloated swine.

Though the end of the month came. And all you got was another letter. And this one proclaimed no release. Instead, proclaiming:

"70kg. End of next month. Make it happen."

Along the same vein as the bloating singer, but imagine someone's standing behind a podium and they have to keep stalling and talking because the minute their speech is over, they have to leave the podium. The only issue is that something's been disagreeing with them for the past half hour, letting air bubbles find their home in the round curve of their belly. Maybe it might not have been noticeable at the beginning of the speech, and if they'd been quick, they might've finished the speech and gone away without much fuss about the subtle curve of their stomach. But now their stomach is tight enough to cause discomfort as they fight to not unbutton their expensive suit. Every sentence is a gradually losing battle against the chorus of burps that attempt to leave their mouth anytime they utter a single syllable. It's getting bad now, nearly every other word is beginning to be a glutinous burp that resounds into the podiums microphone, and they can see the confusion or disgust from the audience. But their bloated stomach looks akin to a puppy with a belly full of worms now, and they're hoping with every fiber of their being that their suit can hold on a little longer and all of this will just go away. Their forehead is beaded with sweat as they belch into the mic again, attempting to stifle it with their palm before eventually getting the burp to stop. Though rather than silence, they're met with a disproving groan and gurgle from their stomach before the lowest button of their suit shoots off, hitting the podium with a soft plink as their stomach pushes forward with the trapped air bubbles.

Gotta be honest I think ‘gluttonous belches’ is gonna be stuck in my head for the next few days, that is a great descriptor-

Also this is some good imagery anon 👀 Generally I’m not that into professional characters belching unless under very specific circumstances but I do like the idea of them trying to hide their growing stomach under a suit 👀